Chapter 11: Report from Lingfeng City

The main city of the Orentia Federation, the headquarters of the Granchester Chamber of Commerce.

A six-story stone building stood at the end of the busiest street in the main city, each block of white marble polished to a mirror-like shine.

When sunlight hit it, the entire structure gleamed brilliantly, like a palace built from snow.

Two bronze statues stood before the portico, one holding a scale, the other a longsword, symbolizing the chamber’s creed, representing ‘Fairness and Strength’.

A row of carriages was parked at the entrance.

Merchants had come from all over, some with cargo manifests, others with ledgers.

Passersby would instinctively look up, then unconsciously lower their voices when speaking.

The building itself was a declaration: The Granchester Chamber of Commerce was not a place ordinary people could enter and leave casually.

The first-floor hall was bustling with activity.

Clerks hurried through with ledgers in their arms, the sound of leather boots on the marble floor rapid and urgent.

The long benches were filled with waiting people.

The second floor was offices, where dozens of accountants sat at long tables, their fingers flying over typewriter keys.

The clack-clack-clack sounds merged into a dense, continuous rhythm like pouring rain.

The daily cash flow was enough to run a small country for a whole year.

New apprentices were always overwhelmed by this pace, but the veterans were long accustomed to it.

Here, a single second’s delay meant a difference of hundreds of gold coins.

Only those who worked here understood the weight of the phrase “every second counts.”

At that moment, a carriage pulled up at the chamber’s entrance.

The carriage was adorned with the chamber’s silver emblem.

Four white horses came to a neat stop.

The coachman hurriedly opened the door, and a woman stepped out briskly.

She wore a finely tailored dark dress, a jade brooch pinned at her collar.

She held a leather briefcase.

Her hair was pinned up at the back; a few stray strands were blown across her face by the wind, which she brushed aside with a swift motion, as efficient as handling an unimportant document.

But her expression seemed unwell.

Her brows were knitted together, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Her steps were several times faster than usual.

The guards at the door saw her and smoothly pushed the large doors open.

“Good day, President.”

She nodded without breaking her stride.

As soon as she entered the hall, she was met by dozens of people.

The heads of the chamber’s various departments were lined up, each holding documents requiring her signature.

She quickly raised a hand to stop everyone.

“Go to Victor. Have him sign on my behalf.”

She finished speaking and headed upstairs without looking back.

The department heads exchanged glances.

Victor emerged from behind the crowd, let out a soft sigh, and gestured for them to bring him the documents.

“Give them all to me.”

This woman was the President of the Granchester Chamber of Commerce.

Her name was ‘Lia Granchester’; the chamber was named after her grandfather.

The room was large but crammed full of documents.

Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, every shelf packed with ledgers and reports.

The desk was piled with three stacks of papers, each half a foot high.

But she had no mind for them now.

She sank wearily into her chair and tossed the briefcase onto the desk.

The negotiation she had just endured had been terrible.

The federation officials sat across the long table, all smiles and polite words, but every sentence essentially said “no.”

“The chamber’s request for armed escorts? Inappropriate. The federation army’s duty is to defend the nation, not escort merchant caravans.”

“A re-evaluation of the Frostsilver ore transport quota? Of course. Please submit a formal application. We will provide a response within three to six months.”

“Smuggling issues? We will investigate. Rest assured.”

Rest assured.

She’d rest assured, all right.

Lia rubbed her temples and picked up a report on the desk.

Over the past three months, transport teams under the chamber’s purview, whether by land or sea, had seen eighty percent of their shipments intercepted.

Over a hundred personnel were missing, none returned.

Estimated goods losses…

Over one million gold coins.

The money was trivial; a mere million gold was something she could personally cover.

But this wasn’t about money.

It was about credibility.

It was about channels.

It was about carriers starting to refuse jobs.

They were afraid of dying, which was perfectly understandable.

But once the transport lines were cut, downstream workshops would have to halt production.

Halting production meant breaching contracts.

Breaching contracts meant paying penalties.

Paying penalties meant losing clients.

One link breaks, and the whole chain falls apart.

She put down the report and picked up a second one.

A summary of carrier feedback.

Behind the densely packed list of names, almost every entry had the same note: “Temporarily unable to accept transport assignments.”

There was also a joint petition from various branch chiefs.

She didn’t need to read it to know what it said.

Whatever Victor hadn’t dared show her was definitely big trouble.

She was about to open the letter when the door knocked.

“Come in.”

Victor entered.

This old steward had served Lia’s father since childhood and remained to this day.

His hair was more than half gray, but his posture was still straight.

He held a stack of documents, his expression calm, but Lia could see he was hesitating about something.

“How did the negotiations go, Miss?”

Lia tossed the report onto the desk.

“Terrible, Uncle Victor.”

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

“Those bureaucrats rejected all armed escort applications on grounds of ‘inappropriateness.’ They said Frostsilver ore is military material, and transporting military material requires military approval. The military says they need to wait, for how long, they don’t know. They’re just passing the buck back and forth.”

Victor said nothing, silently tidying the scattered papers on the desk.

He placed the joint petition at the very bottom, then smoothed out the already crumpled reports one by one, stacking them neatly.

“How is the investigation into the mole progressing?”

“Well…”

Victor’s hand paused.

“No progress yet, Miss.”

His voice was low.

“There are seven people with access to the complete route maps. Each is a long-serving veteran of the chamber. I had people discreetly check their accounts, communications, movements over the past six months… but there’s nothing suspicious at all.”

“Too clean.”

Lia opened her eyes.

“Yes. Too clean.”

Victor nodded.

“When everyone else has problems, being perfectly clean is itself a problem. But I can’t find evidence. No unusual transfers, no suspicious contacts, no…”

He didn’t finish.

Lia understood.

Without evidence, they couldn’t touch those people.

The chamber wasn’t an imperial court, but it had its own rules.

Moving against a branch chief without proof—what would the others think?

Victor hesitated, then placed the documents in his hand on the desk.

“Miss, there’s something…”

“If it’s another joint petition from the branch chiefs, I don’t want to see it right now.”

“No.”

Victor pulled a single sheet from the very bottom of the stack.

“Miss, you should look at this report.”

Lia took the paper and scanned it.

It was a goods transport report from Frostwind City.

Halfway through, her gaze stopped.

“Over the past half-month, all transport teams from the Frostwind City branch arrived successfully?”

“Yes.”

Victor said.

“Four shipments in total. Each departed on time and arrived on time. Not a single hijacking, not a single delay.”

Lia read the report from beginning to end.

The handwriting was neat, the data detailed.

The dispatch time, route, number of guards, arrival time for each shipment were all clearly recorded.

“Wangfeng Fortress?”

She noticed the name.

“Is this a sub-branch of Frostwind City?”

“Yes. Wangfeng Fortress is a very small station under Frostwind City’s jurisdiction, near the border adjacent to the Empire. It used to be just a transit point for goods, nobody paid it much attention. But in the last half-month… their performance has been better than anyone else’s.”

“Who is in charge of the transport team?”

“A man named Aldo. A lower-level manager in the Frostwind City branch. He’s been stationed at Wangfeng Fortress for decades, never made much of a stir before.”

“Send him a notice.”

Lia stood up and walked to the window.

“Tell him to return by the fastest means possible. I want to question him in person.”

“As you wish, Miss.”

Victor turned to leave.

“Uncle Victor.”

Lia didn’t turn around.

She stood at the window, looking out at the main city’s streets.

Carriages passed back and forth, pedestrians flowed like a stream—everything appeared normal. But her gaze was heavy, as if looking at something very far away.

“That joint petition… bring it over.”

Victor placed the letter on the desk and quietly closed the door as he left.

Lia picked up the letter and opened it.

Just as expected. Seven out of eight major branch chiefs had signed. She could recite the contents with her eyes closed.

“Until security assurances are provided, this branch suspends all transport operations related to Frostsilver ore.”

Then she picked up the Frostwind City report and read it again.

“Aldo…”

She repeated the name, then her eyes fell on a small line of text at the very bottom of the report.

It was a note Aldo had added at the end:

“For this transport, one external guard was hired. Name: Rex.”

At that moment, Lia didn’t pay much attention to this name, because every report in her hands right now was a monumental problem.

Each one was telling her that the transport lines her ancestors had built with their lifetimes were now, one by one, breaking apart on her watch.